CHAPTER 21: Catherine

POV: Avalon Pierce

Avalon knew about the meeting before Selene confirmed it.

Catherine’s assistant had called his assistant on Wednesday morning. A reservation at the Palace Hotel, Thursday at two, party of two.

He’d waited to see if Selene would tell him and she did. 

Now it was Thursday, and he was parked outside the Palace Hotel like some kind of stalker, watching Selene walk through the ornate entrance.

His phone buzzed. Margaret.

Stop lurking.

I’m not lurking. I’m being strategically nearby.

That’s literally the definition of lurking. Trust her.

I trust her. I don’t trust my mother. Fair. 

But if you crash their meeting, you make it about you instead of about Selene’s closure. Let her handle this.

Avalon stared at the hotel entrance.

Margaret was right. She was always right.

He started the car, drove back to the office, tried to focus on quarterly projections and product roadmaps and anything except imagining what Catherine might say to make ten years of manipulation somehow acceptable.

It lasted exactly forty-three minutes.

Then he was back in the car, back at the hotel, sitting in the lobby with a newspaper he wasn’t reading and a coffee he wasn’t drinking.

Not lurking.

Observing protectively.

There was a difference.

[Garden Court, Palace Hotel - Earlier]

POV: Selene Castellano

The Garden Court was beautiful in that Gilded Age way San Francisco did so well.

Glass ceiling soaring overhead. Marble columns. Afternoon light filtering through like a cathedral. The kind of place where old money came to see and be seen.

Catherine Pierce sat at a corner table, dressed in dove grey, looking every inch the society matron.

She stood when Selene approached.

“Thank you for coming.”

Selene sat without responding.

A server appeared. They ordered tea. Waited in tense silence until it arrived, steam curling between them like ghosts.

“You wanted to apologise,” Selene said finally. “So apologise.”

Catherine’s composure flickered.

“Ten years ago, I made choices I believed were necessary. I saw a pregnant girl who would derail my son’s future, and I—”

“Stop.” Selene set down her cup hard enough that the tea sloshed. “That’s not an apology. That’s a justification wrapped in careful language. Try again.”

Catherine flinched.

Good.

“You’re right.” She took a breath. “I was wrong. Completely, devastatingly wrong. I manipulated you when you were vulnerable. Threatened you when you needed support. Stole ten years from both of you because I was arrogant enough to think I knew what was best for my son’s life.”

Better.

Still not enough.

“Why?” Selene asked. “Why couldn’t you just let him love me?”

Catherine was quiet for a long moment, fingers tracing the rim of her teacup.

“Because you weren’t part of my plan. Because I’d spent Avalon’s entire life building a specific future for him—the right schools, the right connections, the right marriage to someone who understood our world. And you—” she looked up, something raw in her expression, “—you came from nothing. No family connections. No social capital. Just brilliance and kindness and the kind of love that made him look at you like you were the only person in the room.”

“That’s what scared you? That he loved me?”

“That’s what I couldn’t control. Every other aspect of his life, I could manage. But what you two had—I couldn’t touch it. Couldn’t redirect it. Couldn’t reshape it into something more acceptable.” Catherine’s voice dropped. “So I destroyed it instead.”

The honesty was unexpected.

Selene sat with it, watching Catherine’s perfect composure continue to crack.

“What changed?” she asked. “Why apologise now?”

“Nene’s funeral. Watching Avalon realise what she’d done—orchestrating your reunion because she knew I’d destroyed the first chance. And then her letter.”

“She wrote to you too?”

“One line. ‘Catherine, you’ve spent your life controlling everyone around you. It left you powerful and completely alone. Fix it before it’s too late.’” Catherine’s laugh was bitter. “No warmth. No forgiveness. Just truth.”

“Was she right?”

“Devastatingly. I have everything I thought I wanted—money, status, respect. And I’m alone. My son barely speaks to me. My mother died disappointed in who I’d become. I’m fifty-eight and the only person who might attend my funeral is my assistant, and only because I pay her well.”

Selene felt something unexpected stir.

Not pity.

Understanding, maybe.

“You still haven’t mentioned the baby,” she said quietly.

Catherine went pale.

“I didn’t know you’d miscarried. Not until the board meeting. I swear to you, Selene—if I’d known you were going through that alone because of my threats—”

“What? You would have suddenly developed compassion?”

“Yes.” The word came out fierce. “I lost two pregnancies before Avalon. Sixteen and nineteen weeks. I know that particular grief. The kind that hollows you out and never quite fills back in. If I’d known—”

Her voice broke.

Selene stared at her.

“You lost two pregnancies?”

“Why do you think I was so controlling with Avalon? He was the only one who survived. The only child I got to keep. I wasn’t going to let anyone or anything threaten his future.”

The admission settled between them like ash.

“Her name was Elena,” Selene said quietly. “After Nene. I was twelve weeks gone when I lost her. I drove myself to San Francisco General bleeding and terrified and completely alone. And every single day since, I’ve wondered what she would have looked like. Who she would have become.”

Catherine’s carefully applied makeup couldn’t hide the tears.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered. “For the threats. For the manipulation. For stealing your chance to grieve with Avalon. For everything.”

Selene sat in the beautiful restaurant, light streaming down through the glass, and made a choice.

“I don’t forgive you,” she said. “Not yet. Maybe not ever. But I hear your apology. And I believe you’re trying to change.”

“That’s more than I deserve.”

“Yes. It is.”

Silence stretched between them.

Then Catherine spoke again, carefully.

“Avalon cut me out of everything. The boards, the trusts, his life. Do you think—would you talk to him? Help me—”

“No.”

The word came out firm.

“If you want a relationship with your son, earn it yourself. Don’t use me as a bridge. Don’t manipulate him through me. Just be honest with him consistently. Without an agenda. That’s the only way back.”

Catherine absorbed that.

“Can I ask you something?” she said finally.

“You can ask.”

“Do you love him? Really love him, not just—”

“Yes.” Selene didn’t hesitate. “I love him. I’ve loved him for twelve years, even when I was running from it. Even when it would have been easier to stop.”

“Does he love you?”

“He’s working on it.”

Something that might have been approval crossed Catherine’s face.

“Good. He should have to work for it. You’re worth the effort.”

The compliment caught Selene off guard.

“Thank you.”

“I mean it. I was wrong about you. About everything. You’re exactly what Avalon needs—someone who challenges him, grounds him, loves him without agenda.” Catherine paused. “I just wish I’d seen it ten years ago.”

“So do I.”

Selene stood.

“Where are you going?” Catherine asked.

“Home. To my husband.” She pulled cash from her wallet and set it on the table. “But Catherine—if you’re serious about changing, about wanting a relationship with Avalon, you need to understand something.”

“What?”

“He doesn’t need you. Not anymore. He has Margaret, Robert, me, and a whole chosen family that actually shows up for him. So if you want back in his life, it has to be because he wants you there, not because you’ve guilted or manipulated your way in. Can you do that?”

Catherine was quiet.

“I don’t know,” she said finally. “But I’m going to try.”

“That’s all anyone can ask.”

Selene left before Catherine could respond.

Walked through the beautiful hotel, through the lobby where—

Avalon sat with a newspaper.

Upside down.

Selene stopped, something warm flooding her chest.

“You’re lurking.”

He looked up, caught.

“I’m not lurking. I’m… reading.”

“Upside down.”

He glanced at the paper, realised she was right, and set it aside sheepishly.

“Okay. I’m lurking.”

She crossed to him, stood close.

“How long?”

“The whole time. I tried to stay away but—”

“But you couldn’t.”

“No.”

Selene felt herself smile despite everything.

“Your mother apologised. Really apologised.”

“Do you believe her?”

“I think she’s trying. Whether she succeeds is another question.”

Avalon stood and pulled her close.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah. I am.”

“Good. Let’s go home.”

Home.

The word settled over her like warmth.

They walked out together into San Francisco sunlight, leaving Catherine Pierce alone with her apologies and regrets.

And for the first time in ten years, Selene felt free.